I was eating a pile of raw, bloody steak. There was no fork or knife, so I pulled the meat apart with my fingers and teeth. My gums grew sore from chewing, juice stained my lips. Reams of discarded fat piled all around my feet.
I woke, and turned to discover that my wife was gone.
I reached out and felt the indentation of her in the mattress. It was cold. I looked past that to the collection of half-empty pill bottles on the dresser that I’d yet to toss out. She’d been gone for a long, long time.
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